An idiot like me
by release fantasy
Summary: Sherlock gets himself into danger and John runs after him.


John had just done some shopping as an expensive looking, black car stopped right next to him. He rolled his eyes, he knew, who was waiting for him. Without hesitation he got in to the limousine and they drove away. After about half an hour they arrived at a pretty old building in the middle of green grass and some trees. John knew this place as well as his own flat.

He got in and went straight away to Mycroft's office. The brother of his best friend sat in his usual place and drank some tea. He looked at John with this I-am-so-much-more-than-you-look. It annoyed the blogger right away. And so he said what he told Mr. Holmes almost every time in a more angry way as the times before.

"Seriously Mycroft, I told you, I have got a phone. Just call me."

"I know, that you have got a mobile but I also know, that you forgot it at your place."

John started to search for his device. After a few moments he realised, that that man across the room was right. He sighed.

"Ok. Why have you made me come here?"

"It`s Sherlock. We don't have the same kind of relationship as before he claimed to be dead. I'm afraid he struggles to get back to his life, the way it has been."

"And how can I help you with that?" It really angered John that the brother of is flatmate thought he couldn't take care of Sherlock. Both were adult men. They could handle their lives by themselves. But the former soldier feared that this guy in his big office may be right. The consulting detective has recently been really silent. Even more than usual. However it got on the bloggers nerves that Mycroft always has to interfere in their lives. "You know actually we're on a case right now. I hope for you that he does not do anything stupid while I'm here."

"I just want you to be there when he needs anything. We lost each other over the years and you are the person closest to him. So please – I can't believe I'm actually saying this- John look after my brother, please. Don't do it for me. Do it for him."

For a moment John could imagine how the two Holmes brothers each started to live their lives and became lonely.

"I will look after him. But not because you asked me to. He is my best friend and don't need your advice to know what I need to do."

Mycroft nodded. "And now bring me home." John looked at Mycroft. "If you go outside there will be a car waiting for you."

Without a word the blogger left the office and went outside where the promised car was standing. He got into it and worried what his sociopathic friend may has done in all the time he was alone.

As the limousine stopped at 221B Baker Street John could hardly remember the stuff he had bought. He grabbed the bags and left the car, opened the black wooden door and went up the stairs to his and Sherlock's flat.

"I'm back!" he shouted as he entered the door and walked to the kitchen. It was very quiet. Not unusual but Sherlock would at least sit in his armchair and stare at John as he sorted the bought things into the fridge. But nothing. It was a bit to quiet and empty. Sherlock wouldn't have gone to bed without solving the recent case. So where the heck was he?

"Sherlock?"

Maybe he went for a walk. It would be the first time but there's always a first time. So John put away all the stuff from the grocery.

As he was done he remembered that he had forgotten his phone at home. So he went to his room and grabbed it. Maybe Sherlock had written him a message about what he decided to do. He turned the device on and there were 5 new messages. Two of them actually were from Sherlock. He opened the first one:

"John, I have found something concerning the `pierced fisherman´ I'll be going to an abandoned shipyard on the Isle of Dogs in Ferguson Close – SH"

John shivered. Sherlock alone in an abandoned shipyard. That did not sound good. He grabbed his coat and left. The blogger couldn't stop his legs from running down the stairs and out onto the road. He hailed a cab and drove all the way to Ferguson Close. John could hardly sit still. His hands were holding his phone as he remembered the second message. He switched the mobile on and read the words his best friend had written for him:

"Something here is not right. I don't know what it is but I'll soon know. This case is one of the most fascinating ones we have ever had. - SH" John hold his breath. Fascinating. When Sherlock says fascinating it usually is something very dangerous. Like the one time he thought poisonous snakes were fascinating and got bitten by one. They said it had been a very close call. John prayed for Sherlock to be well. He took a closer look to when the message was sent. Sherlock must have written it on the cab. Maybe he was alright. John tried to call him but only the answering machine would talk to him. He was frightened. Very frightened. As he realised that his best friend was alone in an old shipyard.

As John recognized that the messages he had read had been sent two hours ago his hand started to tremble. Two hours. Everything could have happened within two hours. John called Lestrade.

"John? What is it?"

"I don't have time to explain, we're almost there."

"Where `there´?"

"The Isle of Dogs – Ferguson Close. I have the feeling Sherlock has gotten himself into something he can't handle. He went there because of our recent case. And I'm afraid, I'm responsible…"

"You're not! He's a grownup, you know."

"But if I had been there he may be still at home or we could have gone there together or – I have to hang up, we're there."

"Ok, we will be there as well in a few minutes. John be careful."

"I will"

John hung up. The cab held and the blogger got off. He stood there and didn't know where to go. There were like 5 old abandoned looking shipyards. "God damn it, Sherlock. More precisely next time." He murmured. He didn't know what to do. As he suddenly heard a well-known voice. It was Sherlock's. But John was sure, it was only in his head. So he listened without searching for him. He could hear a lot of stuff Sherlock had deduced over the time. Suddenly he noticed stuff he, if he hadn't meet Sherlock, would have never seen.

There was one building that was a little smaller than all the others. You could live there for years and maybe never notice it. The windows were shattered all of them on the other buildings there were at least some of them not yet broken. The door seemed to be new which was ridiculous, because the house must have been abandoned for years maybe for decades, so why would somebody replace an old door? Additionally there were some footprints in the cold humid dirt around the entrance. So John decided to check this one.

He stepped inside and recognized a lot of wooden planks on the floor but they seemed too new in contrast to the rest of the building. Somebody must have brought them here in order to build something.

"Sherlock?" – Silence – "Sherlock are you here?"

There was no answer to John's voice in the empty halls of this building. So the blogger let his eyes explore every detail of the things around him. Suddenly he noticed a familiar blue scarf lying in the corner of the room.

He walked the few steps and pick up the soft fabricate. Sherlock's smell still clinged to it. Sherlock must be here somewhere. John trusted the feeling in his belly and crossed the room. It led to an even bigger hall. Half of it hat concrete floor the other side of the room was open to the river. It was very cold.

"SHERLOCK!" Still no answer.

"Oh god …. Where are you? ..." John murmured to himself.

Out of nowhere there was a noise right behind him. He turned around expecting his best friend to stand there but he wasn't. It was a huge man about 2 meters 10 tall and muscular. Without a word the stranger lunged out to punch John right in his face. The former soldier quickly moved a step back.

"Whoaa … What's wrong?"

No answering. The giant just kept trying to beat John. After a few moments Sherlock's assistant decided that he was too much out of routine. So he just repeatedly duck. When he saw an enormous plank that projected partly over the part of room that had flowing water instead of a floor. The two men still fighting each other slowly moved in that direction. John quickly jumped around the big assailant. And the moment the giant stepped a bit too far onto the almost floating plank. John made him trip over his own feet and the stranger fell into the cold water. He got carried away by the current. John stood there in heavy breathing.

"… sherlock…. Sherlock … SHERLOCK! Where are you?"

Suddenly a weak whimper reached John's ear. "Sherlock?" The whimpering grew louder. John followed it and was lead to a part of the room, where the concrete floor went downhill to the water. "Sherlock?" The whimper filled not only the silent hall but also John's mind and heart. There were a few pieces of wood. Around the planks he noticed a lot of blood. He pushed the wood a side and saw his best friend and flatmate barely alive lying in the cold water clinging to a piece of wood that had fallen down from the ceiling.

"Sherlock! Oh my god! Can you hear me?"

A hardly noticeable nod was his answer. "Thank god, you're alive…" The former doctor immediately noticed the enormous blood loss. His own hands were trembling just as much as Sherlock's whole body did. But in contrast to his friend Sherlock was shaking because of the cold and blood loss.

The Consulting Detective suffered from a gaping wound in his torso. John tried to pull Sherlock out of the cold water but he was screaming because of the pain that filled his whole body. John opened up Sherlock's blood soaked Shirt and spot an enormous injury in the side of his friend's torso. He took Sherlock's scarf off his own neck and pressed it on the injury to stop the bleeding. John rested Sherlock's head in his lap and took hold of his friend's right hand.

"Sherlock…." At this point of time tears were burning in John's eyes and rushed down his cheeks.

"Johhh …" The voice of his barely alive friend let him fall silent.

"John … "

"What is it?

"I'm cold"

"I know. Here" John took of his jacked and put it around his friend. "Sherlock you need to talk to me. Can you hear me? Lestrade must be here any second"

"John …. So ….. tired… "

"You can't sleep now Sherlock."

"Why?"

John couldn't say it out loud. Sherlock wouldn't make it if he fell asleep now. So he tried to find a good reason for Sherlock to stay awake.

"We're on a case you know. You never sleep, when we have got a case." Those words made John shake intensely. The pain he felt in his chest even increased. It felt as if his heart was breaking and then the single parts were burned never to feel anything anymore except for this enormous pain and fear. He knew for months that he felt more than just friendship towards Sherlock. He thought he had time to find the right moment to tell the consulting detective. But now time seemed to be running out.

"Right…."

"Sherlock … HEY … stay with me, can you hear me?"

"… can … he … you…."

"Sherlock I don't know if I survive it again. Sherlock"

"sorry…"

John saw a single tear running out of Sherlock's eyes as they closed. He could hear sirens and voices. Sherlock's head dropped to the side.

"Sherlock… don't die on me now …"

John couldn't speak one more word because of the heavy sobbing that seemed to fill his entire body. The feeling he had towards his best friend seemed to kill him the second Sherlock stopped speaking. He knew if he wouldn't tell him now there would be no other chance. "Sherlock … I … I love you, don't leave me" He broke down and grabbed Sherlock's hand with one and his shirt with his other hand. "Don't leave me. It'll kill me. It almost did last time… Sherlock …"

The door behind them both opened and Lestrade entered the room with two docents of policemen. "John have you found-" He couldn't talk as he saw the blogger sobbing and crying. As he walked towards him he also noticed Sherlock lying in the water as well as the amount of blood surrounding him. He turned back "Go get a medic!" Two of the officers ran out immediately.

Lestrade knelt next to John. "Sherlock can you hear me? Sherlock?"

John just shook his head. The Detective Inspector could only stare at the blogger.

"The medics are right here! GOD DAMNIT WHERE ARE THEY?" Two more policemen left. And a few seconds later the ambulance men came in and took Sherlock with them.

Lestrade needed another officer to hold John back from keeping hold of his best friend. But at last they could bring the consulting detective out.

As Sherlock had left the building John broke down he sat on the cold wet floor and couldn't think or talk he just sat there crying. Lestrade put his hand on the bloggers shoulder. "He'll make it, you'll see" After the former soldier had cried all tears that had been burning in his soul he got up and turned to the Detective Inspector.

John urged Greg to take him to the hospital with him. "Don't you want to go home and change? Your clothes are wet and you must be cold." John's cold, fearing face shut Lestrade up. "All right, let's go"

In the clinic Sherlock already was in the operating room. He was still alive but they had to operate him immediately to save him.

"They're taking like for ever!"

John was angry at the doctors for not telling him what was going on. At last John was a doctor as well. At least as good at them. But they wouldn't even tell him if it looked good for his beloved one.

"He'll be alright" Lestrade was still next to him. They have been waiting in front of that door for more than 4 hours now. "Don't you want to go home and get some sleep? They will not let you –"John's angered glimpse silenced him. "sorry."

After 3 more hours – Lestrade had gone home about half an hour ago – Sherlock was brought out and into a room at intensive care unit.

Night had fallen over London and John was tired as he sat next to his best friend and thought. He thought a lot. About him and Sherlock and about Mrs Hudson and about a lot of other people. They told him Sherlock would make it. It would take some time but he would be himself in a few weeks or maybe months. But he had to stay calm and don't work. John knew it would be hard to stop Sherlock from working but if it was his only chance to get well again they would handle all the boredom somehow. Even if it meant to play Cluedo with him. The thought of Sherlock claiming that the victim had killed himself made John smile. It was so stupid but still so brilliant. Eventually he fell asleep in his uncomfortable chair.

The next morning Sherlock woke up. He felt a huge pain and he was very dizzy. But all that unpleasantness seemed less urgent as he saw his best friend sleeping in an ordinary hospital chair. It didn't looked comfortable at all. The consulting detective tried to move as he noticed John holding his hand. A smile found the way to Sherlock's lips. His smiles were very rare not to say that most of them were fake. But this time it came from the bottom of his heart.

None the less he had to call a nurse because of his pain so he pushed the button to call one as slowly as possible not to wake his friend up. When the nurse came in she saw Sherlock watching John very carefully.

"Please don't wake him up." The nurse nodded.

"He fought us last night because he didn't want to leave your side for only one second, you know."

Sherlock smiled again. Or still? He didn't know. And honestly he didn't care.

"How can I help you?"

"Can you do something against the pain? It's killing me."

"Sir I'm not sure if anything out there can actually kill you." But the hospital employee pushed some buttons next to the Consulting Detective.

"What do you mean by that?" Sherlock was puzzled which was a very rare situation as well.

"When you came here yesterday it didn't look good at all for you but you cling to your life as only less people out there do."

A few moments after the nurse had left John woke up.

"Good morning"

"You're awake! How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"Calm down. I'm alright."

"Oh thank god. Please don't ever do something like that again."

"Is that what you couldn't survive one more time?"

John's cheeks reddened a little. "You heard that?"

"Yes. And wasn't it meant to be heard by me?"

"Of course it was but I didn't believe in you actually hearing it…"

"That's not the answer to my question."

"Right, right. Yes, no, well, I could not survive your loss one more time."

Sherlock didn't knew what to answer to what his friend had just told him. His head told him that John felt more towards him than just friendship. Sherlock had noticed that months ago. Probably even before John knew about his own feelings. His mind also told him that he could never return those feelings to his best friend. But his heart told him something else. He needed John more than he had ever needed anyone in his life. This stupid little blogger with his average intellect turned his life upside down. But Sherlock had no problem with that. Every single day was so much more with Mr Watson than it could be without him.

"I'm sorry…"

John felt tears burning in his eyes. "You said that before but … but I thought it was just because you were …. you were … "

John couldn't get one more word to pass his lips.

"It's alright. I'm here and I'm ok."

Sherlock pulled John towards him and hugged his crying friend until he stopped.

"Sorry."

"No need to be sorry. It was very stupid of me to go there all alone and without anyone really telling what I was doing. I don't want to scare you in that way ever again. You're the only one who truly cares about me except for Mrs Hudson maybe. But I doubt that she would run into an abandoned shipyard to save an idiot like me." Both started to laugh at the thought of old Mrs Hudson running in danger probably carrying her frying pan to defend herself. "Nonetheless you know what I mean. I need you."

Those words let Johns heart melt. It was more than he had ever imagined Sherlock to say concerning feelings toward him. It made him fall silent.

"Wait how much have you heard?"

"Is there anything I shouldn't have heard?"

"Well no … but … erm .."

"I have heard what you are thinking of"

"Oh … that was because … you know … I … that's …"

"It's alright, don't worry about it anymore"

"But I want to get this straight. I meant what I said. I didn't knew I felt that way but I do. I know it now and that's all I need to know now. Sherlock Holmes I have fallen in love with you. With your brain, your cleverness, your neurosis, your I'm-just-gonna-keep-this-head-in-the-fridge, I love every single bit of it."

"John Watson you know I can't really love anyone or anything except for my work."

John braced himself for getting turned down and felt the pain of a breaking heart creeping up to him. He closed his eyes and listened to the next words that came from Sherlock's lips.

"Good thing that you are my work. Because I would be lost without my blogger. So don't look so sad. Please, for me. Smile. I love it when you do."

And John did what his friend asked for especially because it wasn't hard for him at all. He put his hands on his friends face and pulled himself closer to him until their lips were only centimetres from each other. Without hesitation Sherlock bend to close that gap.

Those were the exhausting and though most beautiful moments in John Watsons life. But not only in his one. Also Sherlock Holmes the first, only and of course best Consulting Detective in the world. It took him a few months to recover completely but a last both could return to their work at Scotland Yard now without all the others interpreting John's and Sherlock's relationship. But rather gratulaiting them on their choice of partner.


End file.
